Untitled, But it Has Something to do With Cherries
by Jasmine Reinier
Summary: Cid invites Vincent to his home to watch a movie. The gunman, surprisingly, accepts. After finding nothing else to eat in the house, Cid digs up an old box of cordial cherries. Nothing would have happened had it not been for those things. VinCid Oneshot


"We'll be halfway to anywhere, where love is more than just your name." - Evanescence (Anywhere)

Jazzy: I've finally done it. I've delved into the realm of shounen-ai happiness. Now, I'm kind of nervous about posting this, so please, no flaming. Vincent/Cid is my favorite pairing of all time, right up there with my crack!Rurouni Kenshin pairing of Saito/Misao. Hah, I'm on something, I must be. What can I say, canon bores me. Anyway, I don't own either of these blokes, so don't sue. I will never let you have my Prismacolors, nevaaaah!

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**Untitled, But it Has Something to do With Cherries**

Really, none of it would have happened had Cid not decided to break out the cordial cherries.

The gunman and the captain were sitting on Cid's worn blue couch in his house in Rocket Town, watching a movie that had both an extremely vague plot and more than slightly annoying characters. Every time a woman on the television screamed the high-pitched banshee howl of cliché horror movies, Vincent had to force himself to refrain from rolling his eyes in irritation. In all honesty, the film itself was quite possibly the most ridiculous thing he'd ever seen, but at least Cid was watching it with him. It was somewhat more tolerable with the presence of the captain nearby, knowing that the man was suffering through the thing just as he was.

Finally, after about fifteen minutes of horrified-at-the-movie silence, Cid, who was sprawled all over the other end of the couch, spoke up. "Hey, Vin, I'm gonna go'n find some food. I'm fuckin' hungry. You want anythin'? I'll git ya' somethin', too, then."

Vincent, in his own quiet way, stated that he was perfectly fine without the traditional party "munchies", but the captain could be very stubborn when he wanted to be. Cid pointedly ignored his words and stomped off into the other room.

Cid, of course, wasn't able to find anything to eat, because Shera still wasn't back from getting groceries. After taking a few moments to swear profusely at the absent woman, he took another search around the kitchen, double-checked the fridge, and even rifled through the utensil drawer.

"Damn, Vin," he called out to the gunman, utterly frustrated. He ran a hand through his short blonde hair and sighed heavily. "I can't find anythin' in this goddamned place! I mean, hell, I can't believe it's all been clean ou -- ...oh, wait, whazzis...?"

Thus, the trouble began.

Way back in one of the cabinets, so far back that the captain almost missed it completely, sat an unopened box of cordial cherries. It took Cid a few tries to reach it, but when he finally did, he let out a small shout of triumph and swaggered back into the living room, where Vincent turned around to stare at him and the brightly-colored box incredulously.

"Highwind, dare I ask...?"

"'S'all I got, Vince. 'Sides, I haven't had these things in years!" the captain declared while throwing himself back onto the couch. The thin plastic covering the sweets was quickly torn away and tossed to the floor, and Cid's impatience caused most of the box to go along with it a few seconds later. "Shera musta bought these fer the Christmas party last year, but we just never got around ta' eatin' 'em."

That Christmas party was a very disturbing memory in the gunman's mind. Someone -- he didn't know who, though he certainly had a suspect -- had spiked the eggnog. Vincent and Nanaki had both intelligently refrained from drinking anything the whole night, but the others hadn't been so lucky.

Carrying a drunken Cid up the flight of stairs had been bad enough, but trying to get the man into his bed had been sheer hell. He still didn't know how he'd managed to do it without some measure of bodily injury.

"Want one, Vin?"

The gunman shook himself out of his memories and stared down at the confection held under his nose by the far too excited pilot. "...No, Highwind, I don't want it. You eat it."

Cid glowered at his dark companion. "Nah-uh, Vince. I went through all the trouble o' findin' 'em, so yer gonna eat 'em, dammit!" He dropped the chocolate into the gunman's flesh hand and retreated back to his side of the couch.

Vincent glared down at it. "..."

The pilot unpaused the movie, and they both resumed watching it.

After a particularly gory scene in which the main heroine was dealt a disgustingly vicious death involving some sort of screwdriver, Vincent risked a glance over at Cid. He was about to ask him if they could just turn the movie off, or at least watch something different, but what he saw nearly made his eyes bug out of his head. All coherent thoughts immediately vanished, leaving the poor gunman completely dumbfounded for one of the first times in his life.

Cid wasn't just eating that cherry, he was _pleasuring_ the accursed thing.

As Vincent helplessly watched on, the pilot innocently cracked open a side of the chocolate with his teeth, happily munched on it for a few moments, and then slowly -- sensuously, almost -- licked out the cream that he found. He sucked on the last of the chocolate, popped the cherry into his mouth, devoured it, and then reached for another one. Cid didn't seem to notice Vincent's stare. In fact, his eyes were still latched firmly onto the television screen.

The gunman wondered if Cid even realized what he was doing.

Apparently not, as the captain did it to the next one. And the one after that. Vincent thought that it was getting a little bit too hot in the room. He shoved his collar down and debated taking the whole thing off. Did someone shut a window, leave the heater on...?

Cid blinked as Vincent abruptly stood and started unclasping the buckles on his red cloak. "Hey, Vin, what the hell're you doing?"

"Am I not allowed to get comfortable in this house?" the gunman glared heatedly down at the pilot, finished with his cloak, and tossed it into the nearest chair. He almost growled at the blonde's blank look. "What _now_, Highwind?"

"Nothin', Vince. Damn. It's jus', well, I don't usually see ya' without that fucking thing on."

"..." Vincent resumed his seat on the couch, crossed his legs, and tried to watch the movie again. If he just ignored Cid and the infuriating way he ate cordial cherries, then everything would be fine.

The one that Cid had given him earlier was still in his flesh hand, now a melted pile of chocolate-and-cherry-goo. He was certain that he'd gotten it all over his cloak, but he was past the point of caring.

Vincent forced his gaze back onto the television and attempted to focus on the poor man getting attacked by a psycho with a chainsaw.The need to just _look_ was so very, very tempting, and his demons were having a field day with it. He could try to ignore the pilot, certainly, but he was having trouble ignoring the things the demons inside his head were whispering for him to _do_ to said pilot.

"Hey, Vincent?"

The gunman, too busy arguing with Chaos to think about the consequences of this one action, turned his head towards the pilot and ground out, "_What_, Highwind?"

The look in Cid's eyes was a mixture of both anger and concern, but Vincent didn't see that, as he was too focused on the spot of cream left on the pilot's bottom lip to notice anything else.

Now that right there was clearly unfair. The Fates themselves seemed to want him to give in.

The pilot's pink tongue darted out and licked the cream away. Vincent's pulse raced. He didn't even realize that Cid was talking until the man shook him slightly.

"What the fuck's wrong with you, eh? You've been actin' funny all day. The hell, Vince? You sick or somethin'?" Cid grumbled, annoyed. He leaned forward and stared intensely into the gunman's face. "...Ya' look all right. But then again, yer always pale, so I can't really tell..."

If there was ever a time when Vincent Valentine snapped completely, this would be that time.

With the jeering and cat-calling of his demons raging in his head, Vincent's hand darted up and his fingers tangled in the pilot's short blonde hair. He swiftly tugged the startled man even closer, tilted his head back, and _kissed him_.

It wasn't a slow kiss, nor was it a tender one. Quite the opposite, in fact. It was cherries and chocolate and anger and annoyance and desperation and surprise and irritation and passion and just a _tiny bit_ of lust and what took you so long and finally, _finally_. Teeth clicked together, tongues dueled and fought for dominance, lips were bitten, and Vincent Valentine, the nearly unshakable, the block of ice, the taciturn vampire, was thrown for a complete and utter loop.

Cid was the first to pull back, gasping, red in the face, and goggles more than slightly crooked. "Damn, Vince, ya' sure waited a fuckin' long time ta' do that," he panted, grinning smugly up at the taller man.

Red eyes narrowed at the teasing. The gunman didn't know what to say. The impulse kiss had been returned wholeheartedly. Cid had _enjoyed_ it, even. With a somewhat shaky breath, Vincent muttered, "...Highwind, you...?"

"Yup," came the pilot's simple answer. The grin widened. "Fuck, I didn't make it obvious enough? _Cordial cherries_, Vince. Think about it."

And think about it he did. He thought about it hard enough that his head was starting to hurt. Cid looked as though he was going to speak again, and with a low growl, Vincent placed a chocolate-and-cherry-goo-covered finger on the pilot's lips, successfully silencing him. "No. More. Talking," he hissed, voice huskier than usual. He gently smeared the melted cordial cherry along Cid's mouth and leaned towards him, centimeters away from another kiss. The other man's breath caught in his throat.

"Vin--"

"Shh," the gunman nearly smirked, thoroughly enjoying this new turn of events. Though outwardly he appeared cool and collected, inwardly, he was nearly on fire. "I told you to stop talking, Highwind. You have brought this upon yourself. Deal with it."

The second kiss was slower, but no less passionate. Within the space of ten seconds, Cid found himself seated firmly in Vincent's lap. The pilot laughed and slapped Vincent lightly on the shoulder. "...Damn, I'm gonna hafta get Shera ta' buy those things more often."

"...Ice cream next time."

"What kind? Vanilla? Or are you a chocolate kinda guy? I didn't know ya' liked ice cream..."

"Vanilla is fine. ...Cid...?"

"Yeah?"

"..."

"...?"

"..."

"Heh. Love ya' too, Vincent."

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Jazzy: Durr, well, there ya' have it. I tried. Eh-heh heh heh. I love this pairing, yes I do. Well, anyway. I do hope you enjoyed it. Leave a review, if you are so inclined. Until next time, loyal reviewers, this is Jazzy Reinier, signing off!

"People only have hope...because they cannot see Death standing behind them."


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